


Matters of the Heart

by CastielsCarma



Series: Destiel FanFiction Bingo 2018 [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ancient Egyptian Deities, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Cursed objects, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, M/M, Team Free Will 2.0, feathers - Freeform, some domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 01:16:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17736251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: Dean finds a box in Jack's room and curiosity gets the better of him.This is my 11th piece for the Destiel fanfiction bingo. My prompt was "Mystery Monster fic" and my theme was "Suspense."Hope you enjoy and as always thank you for reading! =)





	Matters of the Heart

The box was just there one day as Dean was heading towards the kitchen with heavy, slow steps, and sleep in his eyes. Rubbing a hand over his face, he poked his head into Jack's room. The sheets were rumpled, and a book lay tossed on the bed. No Jack but very much a box, Dean thought when he saw the sleek wooden container on the nightstand. Casting a glance outside again, the corridor was empty which didn't surprise him. 

This early in the morning Cas was probably making coffee and Sam was still snoring loudly. Sammy's snoring was a sound he sure as hell didn't miss and not for the first time he shot a grateful thought to the Bunker. It was as close to a home worth its name he had known during all his years of hunting. And the awesome water pressure in the showers was a bonus.

With a yawn, Dean pulled the robe around him and chinked the belt tighter as he got closer to the nightstand. The box had the letter M printed on the lid and was smooth to the touch as Dean ran a finger over it. Picking it up, Dean turned the box over, trying to find something that resembled hinges but coming up empty. He shook it but heard no rattling sound or anything else for that matter which would reveal some part of the mystery content, if there was any. 

Just as he was to put the box down, the lid fell off, sliding down to the floor. Bingo! Nothing like an old fashioned shake to stir things up. Looking inside, Dean raised an eyebrow. He picked up the white feather, twirling it in his hand. Slowly be brought it up to his nose, taking a small whiff. It smelled like a stale, dusty bird. The feather was rather large, bigger than his hand in length and almost as wide at the base before narrowing down. 

Dean put it back in the box and bent down to collect the lid. This was probably a Nephilim thing, Dean was not someone to judge. Jack deserved a good childhood. If that meant collecting dusty old chicken residue, so be it. Putting the box back on the nightstand, Dean made his way to the kitchen.

”Fuck. Cas, for all I care you can make me coffee for the rest of my life. This beats any black sludge we are forced to drink at hotels and run-of-the-mill-dinners.” 

Cas' lips twitched in an almost smile. ”I think I'm doing us all a favor when serving your favored morning beverage.”

Scoffing, Dean took another sip of the hot liquid. ”I'm not that bad.”

”You say that every day, Dean. Coffee is good for older people; makes them alert and it supposedly protects you from heart disease”, Jack said matter of factly. Taking another spoonful of cereals and milk he glanced over at Cas. ”We going on a hunt today?”

Biting off a piece of a Fudge Poptart Dean spoke in between chews. ”You call me old one more time and I swear, I'll let Sam in on all your sugar-high-in-the-middle-of-the-night-snacks.”

Jack narrowed his eyes, but a small smile played on his lips. ”Not if I tell him that half of the times you join in.”

Opening his mouth to reply, Dean closed it, turning to Cas. ”This is all your fault. You two feathery insomniacs are plotting against me.” Raising his cup in the air, Dean proclaimed, ”Fill me up, Cas.” 

Cas turned slowly, looking at Dean, his right eye doing such a small squint you wouldn't notice it if you were not looking, or was very familiar with Cas's features. Not that Dean purposely was looking at Cas to memorize every single expression, to remind himself of the shade of Cas' eyes or the way his lips curved when he was smiling.

What the actual fuck? Blinking, Dean realized what he had said and corrected himself quickly. ” _It_ , fill it up,” Dean repeated and as Cas filled his mug up, staring at him intently. Dean turned to Jack, not willing to admit that Cas' attention on him was making him uncomfortable in all sorts of ways. Clearing his throat, Dean figured the best ploy was to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened. 

”No hunts today, Jack. I'm beat. I was actually thinking about some R&R. Just staying in the bunker. I have the recipe for Mom's sauce. Long roasted ribs and horror movies, how does that sound?”

Jack nodded. “Only if I pick the movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his lips. “As long as it's not _The Nightmare Before Christmas_. I don't care what you say, that one is not a horror movie.”

“I can help with the food,” Cas interjected. “Jack enjoyed my chicken soup very much.”

“I hardly think one dish makes you a Top Chef, Cas but you can watch and learn. I make some mean ribs. But before that, I'm gonna hit the showers. Hurry up before Sam hogs all the warm water. That hair of his apparently needs an ocean to get cleaned.” 

Taking one last gulp of coffee, Dean walked over to the sink and put the mug down. He clasped Cas' shoulder, his hand lingering there.

“Thanks for the coffee, Cas.”

Cas always seemed to have a smile for Dean and this time was no different. “Of course, Dean.”

As he turned to leave, Dean's hand brushed gently over Cas' arm before letting go. 

 

The beads of the water felt like warm pebbles prickling Dean's skin but he savored a chance to get thoroughly clean. Years of hunting had made him relish the chance to be able to take a shower in peace. No Sammy stealing all the fucking warm water or water pressure that was a sad little drizzle leaving you with a sense of frustration instead of relaxation, or going days covered in gunk and blood due to some hunt in a godforsaken forest in Tulsa. Sometimes he envied Cas and his “I'll just zap my self cl – 

A sudden noise brought Dean back from his meandering thoughts. Reflexively he searched for a gun before realizing that he was stark naked. Just great. Slowly he turned off the knob on the shower. Blinking the water out of his eyes, he thought he saw the shape of two thick, gray, hind legs passing by the door frame, a thick small tail swinging back and forth. What the hell? Had Cas put a little extra in the morning coffee?

Slowly Dean neared the exit, careful not to slip on the wet tiles when a sharp pain bit into him, clawing through his chest. His hand went to the floor, stabilizing him enough to avoid his knees crashing on the hard tiles. Sweat erupted all over his skin, steeping him in sudden heat which quickly turned into cold trembles. Turning his head to the side Dean vomited, purging himself of his breakfast.

A few breaths later his stomach had stopped cramping and he scooted away from his own retching. Getting up on wobbly legs Dean took a deep breath, calming himself. His stomach and chest were still pounding with a dull ache but the mind-numbing pain had subsided, leaving him grunting. He tried to calm his shivers and got up again. The corridor was empty and there was no sign of the creature.

When Dean returned to the kitchen he was fine. Everything was fine. Coffee had been bad, probably the whole shower episode had been food poisoning. People saw weird shit due to poisoning all the time, and he had puked it out. That was a good thing. Whatever it was, it was now out of his system, so no reason to worry anyone. If Dean wasn't worried, no reason for anyone else to be worried either.

He looked down at the tomatoes that were chopped into a minute pulp, a thing of beauty. He used the knife to scrape them off the cutting board and into a pan.

“Now, we're gonna put in all those spices and this is gonna be fucking amazing after a few hours. No, Jack, don't take the fat off. That's where all the good stuff is!”

“Oh, I didn't know that.” Jack put his knife down. “You will have to taste all of this though. I don't think I'll be a good candidate for taste tests.”

“Like that will be a problem. Now give me those spices.”

Soon the sauce was simmering on the stove and Jack and Dean were sitting on the bench, each with a beer in hand. Taking a sip, Dean narrowed his eyes when he noticed Jack staring at him from the corner of his eyes for the second time in the space of five minutes.

“What?”

“Everything is alright, Dean? You seem somewhat... on edge?”

Taking another sip of his beer, Dean swiped a hand over his mouth and chin. “Nah, I'm good. Why you asking?” As soon as the last word left his lips, Dean felt a stab around his heart, tiny knives cutting in with force. He tried to conceal his moan, but even that was forgotten when he felt a sudden urge, a _need_ , to look over his shoulder. 

In the corner of the kitchen, dark shadows swirled concealing _something_ but the yellow eye looking at him coldly was enough to make him get up, hand reaching for something. A shift to the right and the shadowy mist revealed a huge crocodile head staring back at him. Realizing he had a beer in his hand, he gripped it tightly. “Jack, you alright?”

Turning his face back to Jack he quickly took in Jack's confused look. 

“Dean...?” Jack was standing up, his voice laced with confusion and worry.

Not wanting to get ambushed by wannabe Tick-Took-Croc Dean focused his attention to the swirly giant lizard. With a sudden burst of energy, the creature rushed him, jaws wide open to reveal yellow, hungry teeth.

_I will devour your heart!_

Dean raised his arm, ready to defend himself with a fucking beer bottle when the thing just vanished and the pain with it. Looking left and right, Dean didn't see anything out of the ordinary; and as he looked back at Jack the question he had on his tongue died down. Okay, Jack had definitely not seen anything judging by the look on his face. Fucking great.

“I gather you didn't see... that?”

Jack looked at Dean, worry in his eyes as he shook his head slowly. “No, just you being very much on edge.” The last word was more of a question. “Dean, what is going on?”

“Wish I knew, kid.” 

Jack's worry had morphed into determination. 

Dean raised a hand. “No.”

“If you don't, then I will. Something is going on in the bunker or with you, or maybe both. Has something odd happened to you lately?”

“Yeah, just now!”

Jack sighed. “Besides that I mean.”

Dean was already heading towards the exit. “Look, I will tell Sammy, promise. You stay and stir that sauce every fifteen minutes. I'll be right back.”

“I don't need to wait here all that – ” 

Dean was already gone.

 

He had planned to think things through before going to his brother so of course, he had to meet Sam in the corridor. The Bunker was huge but Dean was apparently out of all luck this morning.

“Dean. You alright, you look –“

“So help me, Sam, if you say on edge...”

“Angry?”

“I'm not...” Dean stopped himself. “OK, something is going on Sam, no idea what the hell that something is though.”

Sam looked quizzically at his brother while adjusting his red plaid shirt. “Going on? You have to be more specific than that, Dean, something is always going on in our lives. You and Jack were talking about going on a hunt.”

“Yeah but I thought, fuck that, we deserve some rest you know. So me and Jack were gonna make those awesome ribs, Mom's special sauce. Horror movies, the whole shebang.”

Sam smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Right, I know. So I was taking a shower cause you were asleep and you always hog the warm water and I saw... a thing.”

“You saw a... thing?”

Raking his fingers through his hair in frustration, Dean sighed. “Yes, a thing. Look, I don't know what I saw exactly. A swirling crocodile head, I might have felt some weird chest pain and puked some too, and maybe that floating lizard face said it wanted to eat me. Seems I'm the only one that can see it, but besides that, I'm _good_.”

Sam frowned. 

“Don't you make that frowny face. Jack has already told me to tell you, so there. Done.”

“You checked the lore?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “When do I ever check lore?” Sighing, he continued. “No, I was thinking that reading books is step number three.”

“Three? What is number two?”

“I need a drink”, Dean mumbled.

Sam sighed. “Right. Anything odd happen before all of this?”

“Jack already asked me that. Got me thinking about something. I found a feather this morning.”

“A feather? What kind of feather?”

“How the hell should I know? It was a feather, Sammy. Probably was attached to some bird.”

Glaring at Dean, Sam just shook his head. “Okay, I'll check the books. Meet me in the library in ten minutes and try to see if you remember anything else. Oh, and I need to see that feather.”

A few hours into their research Sam finally found something. 

“Dean, I think I found something.” Sam's voice pulled Dean out of his own reading. Some of the Men of Letters really needed a crash course in writing condensed and getting to the point in less than ten pages, cause some of the flowery writings he had to endure gave him a headache.

“News on the feather? A large ass swan feather, an overgrown hen feather? Which one is it?”  
Dean swirled the amber liquid in his glass and took a sip; making a grimace as it burned on the way down. Good stuff. “And how is this connected to that big leguana monster and how can we kill it?”

Sam grabbed a book and took a seat next to Dean. “It's neither, Dean. It's an ostrich feather. 

“Scary.”

“But it can also be the feather of Egyptian goddess Ma'at,”

Dean shook his head. “Awesome. So this Egyptian goddess chick is pissed cause I stole her feather and now she wants to send her attack-crocodile after me.”

Sam's voice took on a pleading note. “Dean, this is serious. If this is indeed Ma'at's feather then things are bad.”

Scoffing, Dean muttered. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

The brothers both turned their heads as Jack entered the library carrying a handful of books. “I think I found an answer to Dean's curse. Maybe. Cas should be back soon with the ingredients we didn't have in the bunker.”

“See, Sammy,” Dean said, “Jack has found an answer. In one of those books. I told you he would find something.” He flashed a reassuring smile towards his little brother.

Jack looked at Dean, features apologetic. “Dean, I didn't know what was in the box. It was supposed to be locked, I tried to open it myself, and nothing I did ever worked.”

“Hey, it's alright. It was locked. I picked it up, I dropped it, it popped open. Magic fingers. I didn't know what was in it, you didn't know. Next time though, maybe leave the weird mystery boxes alone in the basement where you found them.”

“Maybe next time don't touch boxes you don't know anything about”, Sam interjected.

“Hey, Jack, come sit down. I need to show you something before you tell us about your findings.” Grabbing Dean's glass, Sam looked at it and then at Dean. “Tell me what you are drinking.” 

“You know what I'm drinking,” Dean muttered.

“Just indulge me, Dean.”

Leaning back on his chair, Dean answered. “Fine, it's whiskey. Not that you didn't know.”

“Okay, now tell me you are drinking Coke.”

Dean swallowed. Fuck, If he suspected something was off, then Sam definitely suspected the same thing. It was just a matter of when, not if he would find out. There went the hope of Dean solving this before everyone went red alert on him.

There was a pause as he contemplated how he should answer Sam's request. He could say the last part of the sentence later. Technically it was still true but whatever. “I'm drinking C-” 

A punch to his gut and the feeling of greedy claws squeezing his heart made Dean gasp as he doubled over. Jack was there in an instant, his hand on Dean's back and he could feel the familiar warmth as Jack tried to heal him. It was so similar to Cas', yet Cas' touch always lingered with a sense of more and it grounded him in ways no one else could. He hoped Cas would be back soon, ingredients or no ingredients.

After a while, the pain subsided but it was not really due to Jack's healing. Daring a look at Sam's, his forehead scrunched up, proved that Sam was not impressed by Dean's bravado but rather thought it a stupid stunt. 

“This just proves my point, Dean.” Sam pointed at a picture depicting the goddess with huge wings on her arms. “Ma'at is among other things the Goddess of balance, justice, and _truth_. So you touching that white feather, made her angry and somehow she got bound to you, I think. That wasn't any feather, Dean. It's the feather by which your heart is weighed on the scales of Justice in the Hall of the Two Truths. She can sense deceit and is compelling you, to tell the truth. And you need to be honest, Dean. The bigger the secret, the quicker the death.”

Dean shrugged. “Look, I'm being honest. All the time.” 

Sam arched his eyebrows. 

“Hey, don't you gimme your 'Prissy Sam thinks he knows what he is talking about' – look.”

“This means you can't lie. And I'm not just talking about what you are saying to us or whoever. This text implies that goes for secrets too. Even those that you might not want to confront.”

Dean glared at Sam. “Fine, I get it. I'm in some kind of mythological Liar Liar but with my life at stake. Awesome.”

“Dean, that creature you saw. I think that's Ammit. She is also known as the 'Eater of Souls', 'Bone Eater' and the 'Devour of the Dead'.”

“'Devourer of the Dead', those Egyptians really have a thing for fancy names, right?” Sam and Jack stared at him. Right, this was not the time to make jokes.

Clearing his throat, Sam continued. “She is the demonic Goddess of the Underworld, but more associated with divine retribution than anything else. She was considered a force of order more than an actual demon, enforcing the rules of Ma'at. Often she was depicted as having a crocodile head and the body of a lion and hippo. She would eat the heart of the dead, meaning that the soul would die its second and final death.”

“Mm, well build and fierce. Everything you'd need in a woman.” Dean licked his lips.

“Dean!” 

“Alright, alright. So this Ammit chick thinks my heart is delicious because of some secret I have. Let's kill her.”

Jack dropped a book on the table. “I and Cas found something, a spell with the help of Rowena. We need a blue water lily, some of your blood Dean, and Cas is getting the holy fire.” He held out his hand. “The feather is the last ingredient.”

Dean's eyes widened slightly. “Yeah, about that.” Clearing his throat once, he dived into the whole honesty bullshit because better that than a heart attack or Ammit paying him another visit. “The feather is kind of... gone.” 

Sam got up from his chair. “Gone, what do you mean, gone?”

Scratching his nose, Dean continued. “You know that time one hour ago when I had to go take a leak? Well, I kind of salted and burned the feather too, see if that would break the curse.”

“But Dean, then the spell won't work,” Jack said, upset in his voice.

“I know that now. I'm sure there is another way.” Dean tried not to be pissed off, if there was anyone he should direct that anger towards, it was himself.

Sam flipped the book to another page he had marked. “There are some mentions of cleaning yourself with honesty, bathing in the waters of truth. From the texts I've been reading, I think you need to be totally honest and 'unburden your heart' or Ammit will consume it.”

“I ate that pulled pork although I promised I wouldn't. And I like to read, just not dusty lore books.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and then stared at Dean pointedly. “About _everything_ , Dean. That will hopefully convince Ammit to leave you alone.” 

 

Dean was in his room, waiting for the storm to come and it came with vengeance. Cas closed the door behind him with a loud bang, eyes blazing fiercely with anger.

“Dean, when were you going to tell me about this curse?” 

“When it was over?” He got up from his bed, taking a few steps towards Cas. “Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.” Truth. “We will figure it out, Cas. I won't let an animal Frankenstein eat me. We will find a way.” His eyes flickered to the corner, noticing the shadows forming.

Cas seemed to have calmed down somewhat. The last thing Dean needed was to worry about him too. “Let me help you, Dean.”

Dean touched Cas' arm, his hand lingering before letting go. “I will, as soon as I figure things out, alright. I need to be alone for a while. Gimme a few and then we'll have some ribs with kickass sauce. “

Cas hesitated but Dean fired off a smile. “Honestly, cross my heart or hope to die.” 

The shadows rose up higher and Dean saw two huge lion paws slowly walk towards him. The mist swirled around Ammit's torso, revealing soft brown fur here and there. Ammit snapped her jaws shut with a loud thud.

_Your deceitful heart is mine!_

Cas narrowed his eyes. “I know you have a self-deprecating sense of humor sometimes, Dean, but even I know that this is no laughing matter.”

“I'm sorry.” Dean tried to stop the next words but they spilled forth anyways. “I made a joke to try and mask my pain and ease yours. I'm trying to be brave but I guess I'm too chicken shit for that.” Dean clamped his mouth shut. Fucking hell.

Looking at him, as if Cas could see right through him made Dean's cheeks flush. “You are one of the bravest men I know, Dean”, and the sincerity in his voice made Dean's heart clench with ache and longing.

_Suffer!_

When Cas closed the door, Dean waited as long as he could before grabbing the nearest bucket. He almost made it to the bed before pain overtook him, riding his body hard. Knees curled close to his chest and jaws clenched in an attempt not to let anyone hear his groans, Dean tried to ride out the waves of pain washing over him.

Dean considered himself lucky that lunch went relatively smooth, well, except the random truths he felt he needed to confess.

“You did what?” Sam asked incredulously. 

“It only happened once, and I thought you'd smell the fat in the gel. Apparently, you didn't.” Dean grinned and took another bite of the meat. Fucking delicious. Licking some of the sauce of his fingers, Dean nodded towards Jack.

“You did good with the sauce, Jack, this is amazing.” 

“I was just stirring but thanks.”

Noticing that Sam was looking at him, a weird expression on his face, Dean shrugged. “What, I'm just adopting the whole honesty thing.” Sam stared at him hard and that was Dean's cue to leave the table. “I'll be back. Just getting some more bread.”

He could almost feel the burn at the back of his neck, and looking back he saw Cas observing him. Dean bit his lip and nodded towards Cas. He did a little wave but dropped it quickly, realizing he was waving with a small baguette in his hand like a total idiot. If he didn't know any better he would guess the look on Cas face was one of deep sadness. Swallowing hard, he turned his attention back to the bread basket and baguettes.

“Stop being an idiot, Dean.” Sam hissed.

“Look, Sammy, I know you are trying to help me. And I appreciate it a lot, I do. But I got everything under control. I'm the mother fucking Martha Stewart of control. ” The moment he realized what he had said, he cursed a string of profanities under his breath. 

This time it was not just a corner of the kitchen but the entire room was flooded in shadows; black mist swirling ominously over the floor, tendrils of blackness covering the walls in a constant, pulsating rhythm that Dean realized was matched by his own heartbeat. This was bad.

_You are mine!_

A tendril of smoke shot out, aiming straight for his heart and Dean ducked down to the floor. He was dimly aware of Sam and Cas screaming his name, but all his attention was on Ammit. She was practically sauntering across the kitchen space, clawed paws and hind legs finally stopping at the center of the kitchen. With speed, she turned her head towards something and her powerful jaws snapped; making wooden splinters fly all over the place. He never liked what he assumed was the kitchen table anyway. A loud bang rang in his ear as something else crashed down.

_Deceitful vermin!_

Did all ancient deities have such flare when cursing? Dean crawled on the floor, feeling the kitchen counter with his hands when something grabbed his legs and pulled him backward. He tried to find purchase on something, nails scraping in vain. Son of a bitch.

_Your fallacious lies will be your doom!_

The air went out his lungs forcefully as he was slammed against a wall. Moaning as the pain reverberated through his body, Dean tried to blink away the darkness clouding his vision. 

The creepy ass mist had eased off for a second and Dean saw Sam, Jack, and Cas trying to help him. Jack was using his powers, his eyes flashing with Grace, but Ammit didn't even flinch. Cas had his angel blade out and Sam had a gun in hand, pointed at him, but hesitant to fire. He suspected that they couldn't see her, even now and he was in no position to say anything.

A strong paw was pressed against his throat and Dean felt sharp claws on each side of his neck, holding him up a few inches of the ground. Strong imaginary lizard-cat she was, he'd give her that.

_Give up your heart!_

Fire burst throughout his body, wrapping him in agonizing pain only to be quickly replaced by a chilling sensation sweeping over him like he had been drenched in ice water. His shirt was soaked in sweat, plastered to his body. Pain engulfed his heart, spreading out through his chest and Dean suddenly had the urge to vomit. He could feel his stomach heavy and churn, getting ready to expel its contents. 

Dean could almost laugh at the absurdity of the situation. He was not sure what would kill him first; the heart attack he was apparently having, the strong hand from a pissed of demon – goddess -whatever, wrapping around his neck or him choking on his own puke. 

It hit him with sudden clarity, all the things he still needed, no, _wanted_ to experience.

Dean's garbled word was no more than a thought – _yes_!

He hissed as he landed with a hard thud on the floor. Blinking away the pain, Dean opened his eyes. The darkness had left the kitchen, but evidence from Ammit's reckoning could be seen everywhere, from the smashed table and broken chairs to the overturned cupboard and shelves with pots and pans scattered everywhere.

Sam, Cas, and Jack were there quickly and Sam grabbed him by the arm yanking him up. “Dean, you alright?” 

Dean's throat still burned, so he only nodded. It was painful to swallow and his sweat-soaked shirt was plastered uncomfortably to his back. He ached all over and his limbs were leaden. 

“My powers didn't work on her, Dean. Neither did Cas', it was like it just poured off her.” 

Dean clasped Jack's shoulder, then leaned in to give him a pat on the back. “You did good.” He didn't say anything else, throat still raw. He started to walk, or rather limp over towards Cas but the angel was there in an instant. Looking at Dean, he slowly put his fingers on Dean's forehead and Dean closed his eyes as Cas' healing spread throughout him.

When Cas was done, Dean opened his eyes, grateful to feel like himself again. He studied Cas' face carefully, noticing a whirlwind of emotions flicker over him. Swallowing, he turned to Sam. “I need everyone to leave.”

Sam was not convinced that was a good idea. “Why? You sure you are alright? Ammit banged you up pretty good.”

“Now.” Dean's voice cut sharply through Sam's objections.

As Sam, Jack and Cas walked towards the exit, Dean spoke up.

“Not you, Cas.” 

Cas stopped in his tracks and slowly turned towards Dean. His face was unreadable. 

Dean exhaled, a small smile curving his lips. “We need to have a conversation, you and I.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't love Egyptian mythology?
> 
> Ma'at was the Egyptian goddess of harmony, justice, and truth. It was against her white feather of truth that the hearts of the dead were weighed on the scales in the Underworld to determine if they were worthy. Ma'at was not only a goddess but the core underlying principle that guided the Egyptians in their day to day lives. Each individual was responsible for his or her own life. To live accordingly to the gods will in harmony was to live in harmony with both the concept of ma'at and the actual goddess.
> 
> Ammit was of the Underworld but not technically a goddess, and was never worshipped. She was viewed as more of an enforcer and embodied the Egyptians fear of what would happen if they didn't follow the principle of ma'at. If a soul was found to be unworthy when judged it died a second death. It was Ammit who devoured that soul. Ammit was also known by such nice names as 'Eater of Hearts', 'The Devourer of Millions', 'Bone Eater' and 'Great of Death'.


End file.
